


Carnival Nora Ookami

by Twilight Fang (Asthenos)



Series: When nobody knows you exist [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance, Shy Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-11-17
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8223061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang
Summary: Stiles' sentimental adventure with Bambi-wolf - Derek - continues, but this time they're celebrating the pack graduating and moving off into the world.This can be read as a standalone fic, but would make more sense if "When nobody knows you exist" is read first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks in advance for anyone kind enough to leave kudos or comments! :)
> 
> Please keep in mind while you're reading that...  
> 1) I am not intentionally endorsing - or providing negative/positive publicity - for any brand names that you may come across in this fic.  
> 2) I have never been on a cruise ship so any factual errors are a result of my own ignorance.  
> 3) You will get bonus points if you can figure out what the title of this fic means. ;)

It was really early for a Monday morning, at least for Derek because he wasn’t used to waking up so early – ever. Werewolves were nocturnal creatures by nature, they liked to be up and about during the night, not before the crack of dawn. He really didn’t see the point of watching the sun rise above the horizon either. He would much rather watch it go in the opposite direction, dropping below the horizon to create a spectacular sunset in the early hours of the evening. All those fiery red and pink hues cascading across the sky just made Derek feel all warm and content inside. They were like a prelude to a long, dark night of running through the forest at breakneck speeds, feeling the brisk wind sifting through the fur on his face, and causing his pointed wolf ears to twitch in excitement.

 

But this. _This_ was something that Derek couldn’t muster up the excitement for.

 

Standing close to the edge of the Beacon Hills docking port, Derek shifted from one wet sneaker to the other, trying not to slip on the thoroughly saturated wooden planks beneath his feet. Why did it have to rain so early in the morning? As if the dark grey sky, and the pathetic excuse for a lukewarm pale yellow sunrise hadn’t been bad enough. No. Why stop there? Having the clouds that had blown through the area an hour earlier bathe the entire docking port in acid rain made the atmosphere even less welcoming than it already had been.

 

“Carnival Nora Oo-Ka-Mi,” a positively perky voice chimed out as Lydia Martin – only _the_ most popular girl at Beacon Hills High School – came up alongside Derek with her stylish neon pink and white suitcase in tow. She stopped short in front of the gangway that led up to the dreamy looking cruise ship that Derek seemed content to only stare at. “Oh, hello Derek,” Lydia greeted perfunctorily. “I hadn’t realized that you were graduating with us this year.” She patted down a few strands of her strawberry-blond hair that seemed to have been charged with static electricity, no doubt as a result of the higher humidity caused by the rain. And as opposed to Derek’s rather somber wardrobe choice – mainly a pair of dark slacks matched with a slate blue button-down shirt, which may as well have been black – Lydia had chosen to board the ship in style. She was dressed quite glamorously in a cute cotton candy-yellow dress that ended at a barely decent mid-thigh length, with some chunky jewelry and a magenta pink handbag to accessorize the outfit, plus the pair of Prada kitten heels that she had picked up on a whim last week.

 

Was Derek expected to respond to Lydia’s outrageously insulting comment? He couldn’t figure out if Lydia was pretending to be dense or if she really believed that he hadn’t had the brains to graduate with the rest of his class four years ago. Maybe she wasn’t aware of the fact that Derek knew how to play her game better than she could. While Lydia’s cover had been blown a few years ago when Stiles had revealed to everyone that she was quite the genius, and not the airhead that she pretended to be, Derek was still safely in hiding. He might not have been at the genius level that Lydia was at, but he was way above average when it came to his level of intelligence. Not that he felt like it was anyone’s business and had no reason to flaunt his IQ level anyway.

 

“That’s not the only thing you haven’t realized,” Derek replied in a neutral tone. “That shade of lipstick clashes with your shoes.” Leaving Lydia to have an absolute meltdown over her fashion crisis, Derek hurried on board the ship, before another idiot could have the chance to come by and ask him the same stupid question.

 

But as soon as Derek crossed over the threshold of the ship, being extra darn careful because the number of injury lawsuits involving passengers who had tripped and fallen over one was a mile long, he felt the overwhelming urge to flee for his life.

 

“Boarding documents and identification, please,” the male crew member said curtly, holding out his hand and appearing impatient.

 

Where was Stiles? Maybe he should go back out and wait for--.

 

“Come on! Hurry it up,” a pushy voice said loudly behind Derek. “I need to use the bathroom.”

 

Derek glanced over his shoulder… and wished that he hadn’t. There was a line of at least thirty people behind him now and the gangway was far too narrow to escape past that crowd. _This sucks._ Well and truly sucks. If there was one thing that Derek loathed, it was crowded places. Reaching into the corner pocket of his backpack, Derek produced the necessary documents and waited for them to pass the check.

 

“Derek Hale,” the crew member read Derek’s driver’s license. “Are you sure you’re in the right place? This cruise is for _this_ year’s graduating classes from Beacon Hills High and Maple Ridge High.”

 

 _Thanks for pointing that out,_ _asshole_. Feeling like his face couldn’t possibly get any redder, Derek fidgeted in front of the crew member in nervous embarrassment. “I’m here with somebody,” he said as quietly as he could manage, because his relationship with Stiles was still in the closet, and the last thing he wanted to do was air it out in front of a bunch of gossip-malicious teenagers.

 

The crew member gave Derek a skeptical look, checked his boarding documents, and finally passed both back to him. “Okay. Go ahead.”

 

Derek practically flew through the security check, picked up his bag from the x-ray scanner, and went in the opposite direction as the rest of the crowd, desperate to find somewhere to hide. _Stiles?_ No. Stiles’ hair was more of a dark chocolate brown, and less of a chestnut brown. Derek should know. Whenever he did the laundry, he was forever picking that particular shade of chocolate brown hair off of his pillow cases and sofa cushions. Stiles was sweet and kind, and rambunctious, but he shed worse than a cat in the middle of summer.

 

 _Stiles?_ No. Too short.

 

 _Stiles?_ Hell no! Not smelling like that!

 

Weaving his way through the random bodies that he came across, Derek darted down the nearest corridor, following the plush blue carpet to… a flashing amusement park of bright lights, high pitched ringing sounds, and squeals of joy – which alternated with horrible moans of _Fuck! Nooo_. What the hell was a casino doing inside a cruise ship?! Derek had never been in a cruise ship before, had never even considered looking at one before Stiles had invited him along for this memorable trip of a lifetime. He didn’t know the first thing about ships, or the water – nor was he particularly good at swimming – or how to call for someone over the ship’s P.A. system if he got lost. And holy shit was he ever lost now!

 

 _Stiles!_ Derek rushed past the casino, stopped short when he happened upon what looked like a _mini shopping mall?_ , and just kept going. Was Stiles even coming? Maybe he had changed his mind. The last time they’d talked to each other was several days ago, over the phone, and Stiles had sounded distracted and busy at the time. In fact, Stiles seemed to be preoccupied a lot lately. Their dinner dates were now an infrequent affair, and Stiles only dropped by on the weekend, sometimes skipping a week when things got too hectic. Stiles hadn’t even called to confirm where or when they would be meeting up. Maybe Stiles wanted to focus more on his studies from now on and Derek was nothing more than a burden to him. Derek didn’t even know which university Stiles had chosen to attend, or whether he would be commuting or moving into a dormitory on campus. Maybe Stiles didn’t want to be with him anymore.

 

Suddenly the corridor up ahead looked far too narrow to pass through, and the sounds of laughter coming from the casino sounded like someone was mocking him. What business did he have being on a cruise ship with a bunch of people that wanted nothing to do with him anyhow? Derek frantically looked for an escape route, knowing that he couldn’t retreat the same way he had come in because there were too many people in his way. He didn’t want to be seen with his eyes this bright or with this expression of loss on his face.

 

Finally! A washroom! Derek hurried into the men’s room, intent on sealing himself inside and just waiting until the nightmare of a cruise was over – which wouldn’t be for another five days! That’s okay. He could wait. Werewolves could withstand a heck of a lot of torture, both physical and emotional. He’d be fine. He could sneak out at night to scavenge for food and hide in the washroom during the day. Nobody would find him here.

 

“Derek!” The door pushed open before Derek could lock it, and in popped Stiles, looking like he had just run a marathon. Stiles slammed the door behind him, locked it, and leaned back against it, panting and gasping for breath. “What’re you doing? I had to practically chase you halfway through the ship!”

 

“You came!” Derek felt stupid as soon as the words left his mouth, avoiding the bewildered look that Stiles gave him, preferring to sniff instead to avert a disaster.

 

“Are you crying?” Stiles asked in disbelief. He pushed away from the door, knocking his compact sized suitcase onto the floor, and pulled Derek into his arms. “Why is my Bambi-wolf all upset?” He asked in that gentle, mocking tone of his that sounded oh-so-comforting, while making Derek want to cry even more.

 

“I’m not crying,” Derek said in denial, knowing he was screwed when Stiles brushed a finger through his eyelashes, catching a few random tears along the way.

 

“How I adore those dewy sea-green Disney-magnified eyes,” Stiles sighed, grinning when those eyes narrowed at him. “What? You really do have the biggest, saddest eyes I have ever seen. And I’m never going to get sick of reminding you of that. Now, did you really need to use the washroom or was there something you wanted to tell me?”

 

“I thought you weren’t coming,” Derek blurted out.

 

“Why would you think that?” Stiles sounded both shocked and disappointed at the same time. “Because you couldn’t see me in line? Aww, Derek, you know that I would never abandon you like that.” Stiles snuggled up against Derek and kissed his dark fuzzy cheek. “I’m sorry that we haven’t had time to talk lately, but I’ve honestly been super busy. Like writing exams every day and deciding my future busy. But I’ve been looking forward to this for _months_.” Stiles pressed his lips against Derek’s, his tongue sneakily darting into the wolf’s mouth to play a slippery game of tag with him. “Mmm, you taste like – what the hell is that tea called again? – Assam Mangalam,” Stiles murmured as he allowed his wolf to take a split second to catch his breath. And then Stiles dove in again, holding Derek still by the back of his head, one arm around his waist. They kissed like two sex deprived lovers who were stranded out in a desert, where the only way to get water was to drink from each other. And Stiles was so greedy he could drink _all day_. When Derek moaned deep in his throat, Stiles kissed him even harder because _fuck_ he loved to hear his wolf purr. “Yummy wolf,” he sighed as the kissing gradually became calmer, but no less sweeter.

 

After Stiles was slightly less horny, and Derek a lot less gloomy, Derek watched Stiles pull back a little to just watch him with those insightful amber-brown eyes. “What?”

 

“You’re wearing a different shade of black today.”

 

“You mean my shirt? It’s not black. It’s slate blue.”

 

“Close enough. But it looks good on you.” Stiles kissed Derek again and patted him firmly on the ass. “Pants are a good fit, too.”

 

Derek blushed and just stood there as Stiles adjusted his own plaid shirt, which he hadn’t even bothered to button up, proudly displaying his new green t-shirt for a rock band that probably nobody had ever heard of. “I thought you told me to dress up for this.”

 

“I did.”

 

“But… you’re not dressed up.” Derek looked at Stiles suspiciously, predicting the exact moment that his boyfriend’s lips were going to turn up into a smirk.

 

“I know.”

 

“ _Stiles!”_

 

“I _told_ you to dress up. I never said that you _had to_ dress up. Can you blame me for wanting to take some nice pictures with my wolf out on the sea?” Stiles lifted his backpack off of his fallen suitcase and pulled out his shiny new red Sony Cyber-Shot digital camera. “This is one of the reasons why I’ve been so busy. I had to take a part-time job down at the mall because there were a couple of things I wanted to buy before I graduated.”

 

“You have a job?” Derek asked in amazement. With all the monster hunting and life saving that Stiles did in his free time, it came as a shock to know that the graduating teen had still found the time to work and save money. “Doing what?”

 

“It’s a secret.”

 

“Doing what?” Derek repeated, following Stiles over to the mirror.

 

“Nothing super important.”

 

When Stiles continued to be evasive, screwing around with his hair to appear unfazed, Derek came to his own conclusions. “You didn’t take that job with McDonald’s dressing up as Ronald McDonald… did you?” Stiles looked unquestionably guilty upon hearing the name of the golden arches mascot. _No way!_ Derek was in love with Ronald McDonald?!

 

“It pays above minimum wage,” Stiles squeaked out, trying not to sound too ashamed of how low he was willing to stoop to save a buck here and there. “Okay, laugh all you want. I guess I deserve it for tricking you into wearing business casual with… _sneakers_? Derek, you can’t wear nice clothes with sneakers.”

 

“Why not? Ronald McDonald does.” Unable to help himself, Derek covered his mouth with his hand, pretended to cough, and just started to laugh uncontrollably.

 

“Oh, that’s funny, is it? Well, my easily amused dewy-eyed Bambi-wolf, you just earned yourself thirty seconds of sexy tickling.” Stiles grabbed for Derek, trapping him up against the sink, and poked his fingers into all of the wolf’s most sensitive spots. In between the ribs, in his sides, along his neck, until Derek was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes – again. But this time they were tears of joy.

 

“S—stop…. Stiles… come on…” Derek tried to shove Stiles off, but it was like trying to detach a chameleon with sticky fingers.

 

“Nope. You still have ten seconds to go.” Stiles persisted, finishing off the tickling session with Derek’s earlobes. “Wolves are ticklish in the strangest places,” he mused to himself as he leaned forward to nip at that ear with his lips. “So now that you’re all warm and happy again, do you feel like finding our cabin to ditch all this luggage? Then we can go around exploring, shopping, and eating. Well, maybe not shopping. I’m broke.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” Derek agreed enthusiastically. Because Stiles was with him now. Stiles was hugging him, and kissing him, and just making him feel more loved than he ever thought possible. He would follow Stiles anywhere. Even into McDonald’s. Although he would be damned if anyone forced him to eat that shit.

 

“Where’s your suitcase?”

 

“I just have my backpack.”

 

“But this is a five day trip. Do you have enough clothes for five days?”

 

Did he? Probably not. Derek never traveled so he had never seen the point of wasting money on a suitcase. “I brought two clean shirts and three pairs of underwear. I can wash them in the sink when I run out.”

 

Stiles groaned and gave Derek a proper scolding. “Five days equals five clean shirts and five pairs of underwear. Luckily for you they have washing machines and dry cleaning facilities in here. But the next time we go on vacation, you’d better pack enough stuff or else I’ll make your cute wolf ass walk the plank – _naked_.”

 

Derek shivered. That didn’t sound like an empty threat. Stiles always followed through on his threats. “Do cruise ships have planks?”

 

“You don’t want to find out.” Unlocking the door, Stiles pulled on Derek’s arm, leading him back into the overexcited chatter of teenagers flocking to the casino or tearing off in the direction of the bar that was just past it. “I hope you’re in the mood for walking,” he said cheerfully as he took a right in front of the casino.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I have no clue where our cabin is,” Stiles confessed, ignoring the frustrated sound that Derek made behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

“Stiles! There’s a balcony door!” Derek dropped his backpack as soon as the cabin door was closed and practically threw himself across the room to get to that glass door.

 

“And a balcony outside it!” Stiles shouted louder than Derek had, shouldering the wolf out of the way to unlatch it and gleefully slide it open, where it hit the other end of the doorframe with a mighty _bang_. “Oops. I should probably watch my super strength in here.”

 

“I don’t think you could afford to pay for a damaged door with your Ronald McDonald wages,” Derek said innocently.

 

“Probably not,” Stiles agreed, playfully fighting with Derek to be the first one out onto the balcony. It was not their fault, really, because they had grown up in a self-contained town out in the middle of nowhere. This was much more excitement than either of them were used to.

 

They’d left the port about an hour ago and were sailing further and further away from Beacon Hills by the minute. It was now nothing but a tiny speck of land in a vast sea of blues and greens. And, unknown to the graduating students from Maple Ridge High, it was also a beacon for anything paranormal or supernatural with an appetite for human flesh and the young blood of teenagers. But according to some jocks Stiles had overheard gossiping in the corridors, Beacon Hills was actually a town for inbred freaks and countryside losers. Well, far be it from Stiles to be the one to shatter _that_ wonderful illusion.

 

“This is really nice,” Derek said as he leaned over the railing, caught sight of a girl in one of the neighboring units flashing the empty sea to impress her boyfriend, and quickly retreated back inside. “Maybe we should come back out later. After the children have calmed down a bit.”

 

“Holy shit! Is that Monica from Economics class?” Stiles hung over the railing for a moment with his mouth open in a big O for _oh-my-God_ , before he too decided to come back inside. “See if you can find mints! Are there any mints?” Under regular conditions, Stiles tended to get overexcited quite easily, but this… _this_ was spectacular! He was sharing an artistically decorated cabin boasting sailor white and blue furnishings with the wolf of his dreams. They were going to spend four romantic nights snuggling together in that perfectly ironed bed, right by the balcony door. It was almost like a honeymoon. _Nope. Too early for that._ Stiles set his overeager imagination back a few years and flipped over the pillows to look for free candies.

 

“No. No mints. But I found a map of the ship, and the washroom looks nicer than my own.”

 

“Uh… yeah… it wouldn’t take much to look nicer than that antique disaster,” Stiles muttered under his breath. Of course Derek kept everything in his loft super clean, but when it came to washrooms, there was no such thing as a timeless classic. If Derek didn’t replace that shitty old renaissance bathtub with the creepy legs – and soon – Stiles was going to take a hammer to it.

 

A soft rapping at the door prevented Stiles from ushering Derek into the washroom to check out the water pressure – _together­._ Because one could never take too many showers. And Stiles, being the poor perverted bastard that he was, liked to admire Derek in the shower. With a body like that, who wouldn’t?

 

“Yeah?” Stiles called out through the door, worrying that it might be Monica coming over to punch him in the face for ogling her bouncy assets from afar.

 

“Good morning, sir,” a tiny female voice called out from the other side of the door. “I have the package that Mr. Hale checked in earlier this morning. Would you like me to bring it inside or leave it at the door?”

 

 _Package? What package?_ Stiles gave Derek a suspicious look as the wolf opened the door, tipped the baggage girl, and carried a fair sized cardboard box into their room. Once it was set down on the floor, Stiles went after it like a hawk scavenging for fresh meat. “You said that all your stuff was in your backpack,” Stiles reminded Derek as he curiously circled around the box.

 

“It is.”

 

“So then, what’s in the box?”

 

“Your graduation present.”

 

“You got me a graduation present?” His cute, sexy wolf had gotten him a present? It wasn’t like Derek had never gotten him a present before, because his wolf was pretty generous when it came to gift giving. It was just that nobody else had gotten Stiles a present for graduating, and he hadn’t wanted to make a big deal of it, so this mystery box was completely unexpected. For once, Stiles didn’t know what to say. He crouched down in front of the box and lightly pushed it. It didn’t seem very heavy because it tipped over a little before rocking back onto all four corners. “If it’s something that’s going to get me all choked up, I’m going to trap you on the bed and smother you with kisses until I’ve kissed every inch of your sexy body,” he threatened.

 

As Stiles dug his fingernails into the groove down the middle of the packing tape, Derek took a very big, cautious step backwards.

 

Once the tape was neatly sliced open, Stiles pulled open the box flaps, reached inside… and pulled out something wrapped in bubble wrap. Followed by another similarly sized something wrapped in bubble wrap. And another. And another. Until he had removed six in total, plus another package that was shaped more like a box. As soon as he had freed the first object from its bundle of bubble wrap, Stiles squealed. Literally made a high pitched, excited squealing noise that startled Derek into backing away further.

 

“You got me the whole set of 6 Bandai S. H. Figuarts Star Wars PVC figures from Japan?! _And_ Star Wars: The Complete Saga 9-disc Blu-ray box set?!” Stiles dropped everything – gently, obviously – onto the floor and attacked Derek with hugs and kisses, knocking him onto his back on the plush sailor-blue carpeting. “You are _the_ most loveable wolf ever, Derek!”

 

“You’re welcome,” Derek said with a smile, hugging Stiles back and just tolerating the carpet burns on his back for a few minutes.

 

“Oh, I could just stay like this all day,” Stiles blissfully mumbled into Derek’s bearded jaw.

 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Derek sighed, allowing Stiles to flop down onto him, trapping him on the floor.

 

“Neither would I… but I promised the others we would be on time for lunch.”

 

“What others? What lunch?”

 

Hearing the uncertainty in Derek’s voice, Stiles drew back to smile reassuringly at him. “You know them so don’t worry. Just Scott, Lydia, and Kira. I figured that since we’re graduating… well, you know… we might not have time to meet up so often, so…” _Shit._ Stiles had rehearsed the whole damn speech in his head prior to boarding the ship, and the trial run hadn’t included any nervous fumbling or pauses. “Oh hell,” he breathed in annoyance. “I want to tell my friends that we’re an item, okay? Like in the middle of lunch, at the table. In really specific, impossible to misinterpret terminology.” Stiles watched Derek give him that helpless ensnared wolf look, like he wanted to say yes but was afraid it might lead to a trap. “Do you mind?” If Derek wasn’t comfortable flaunting their relationship in public, they were going to have a really big problem on this five-day cruise.

 

“No… I’m happy that you want your friends to know that we’re together, but…”

 

“But…?” Stiles parroted.

 

“Promise you’re not going to call me _Bambi-wolf_ or compare my eyes to Disney characters in front of your friends. No. In general.”

 

“I promise not to call you strange names in public _if_ you let me hold your hand and kiss you on deck.”

 

For a moment, Derek just blinked up at Stiles, like maybe he thought this arrangement was negotiable, until he realized that it wasn’t. “Okay, but only non-perverted kisses.”

 

“You’re really bashful, aren’t you?” Stiles kissed Derek one more time and then let him up. “Take that map with you. We need to find _The Kiba Sizzler_ within the next ten minutes or Scott is never going to let me hear the end of it.”

 

* * *

 

 

The Kiba Sizzler turned out to be an ambiguous name for a simple meat-centric restaurant situated towards the starboard side of the ship. It was already crammed with students from both high schools, along with some solo travelers who had nothing to do with the graduation trip, by the time Stiles and Derek arrived. Strangely enough, there was nothing outstandingly different about a restaurant on board a ship. The steakhouse atmosphere was the same. The low lighting ambience which made Stiles want to squint at his surroundings was all too familiar. And the casually dressed waiters and waitresses didn’t resemble a ship’s crew in the least.

 

“Stiles!”

 

Stiles honed in on the voice that had shouted his name above the ruckus of a party of eight who were gesturing and laughing crazily over on his right. For all he knew, they were probably playing charades with their food, they were _that_ animated.

 

“Hey, Scott!” Stiles slapped his best friend – the big bad alpha wolf, leader of the pack – on the shoulder, and took the seat next to him. “Nice window seating,” he complimented him, impressed that Scott had managed to score such a highly coveted table.

 

“Don’t thank me. Thank Kira and Lydia. They got here half an hour early.”

 

Pushing out the chair next to him for Derek to sit down, Stiles turned to Kira and Lydia and gave them his most grateful smile. “Thank you, ladies. You saved us from eating a meal beside that deafening table near the entrance.”

 

“Derek… I didn’t know that you would be here.” Scott glanced at Derek, and then at Stiles, and then back at Derek. “Uh… thanks for coming?”

 

“Yeah… about that…,” Stiles began, feeling like the room temperature had suddenly soared into the high 30’s, while his throat felt parched and unresponsive.

 

Not waiting for Stiles to continue, Scott gave Derek a questioning look. “Didn’t you have trouble getting on board?”

 

“A little,” Derek admitted. “Although I don’t see what the big deal is. I’m only twenty-two, not forty-six.”

 

“You’re lucky,” an additional voice joined in on the conversation from behind Derek. “Try being twenty-six and see what kind of trouble you have joining a group of teenagers.”

 

Everyone at the table looked up to see some guy dressed in a jean jacket over a white t-shirt, and beige slacks with a pair of loafers – _Deputy Parrish?_ – standing there looking all awkward and out of place.

 

“Deputy Parrish?” Kira said in confusion, turning to Scott and shrugging when it didn’t seem like he knew who had invited the law enforcement officer either.

 

But acting like everything was cool and as it should be, the deputy took a seat between Lydia and Derek, and leaned onto the table with his elbows, pretending to look eager to join in and make some new friends.

 

Scott ignored Parrish, because that’s what the alpha did when he was confused and couldn’t deal with something, and returned his attention to Derek. “Did you graduate this year, too?”

 

“ _Stiles…_ ”

 

Stiles heard the lethal warning in Derek’s voice and grabbed his wolf’s hand on top of the table to calm him.

 

“Oh, _pu-leaze_ ,” Lydia drawled from where she was seated, checking her mascara in the mirror of her foundation compact. “As if you don’t know why Derek is with Stiles,” she thickly lay on the sarcasm directed towards Scott.

 

“Actually, neither do I,” Kira admitted blandly. “Is there something that I’m missing?”

 

“Am I the only one who knows that Stiles and Derek are a couple?” When Scott’s face took on an expression of horror, and Kira looked at her as if she were speaking in a foreign tongue, Lydia gave a groan of exasperation. “ _Seriously?_ It couldn’t be more obvious. And look, Stiles is holding Derek’s hand. _He-llo_ , open your eyes, people.”

 

 _Here it comes…_ , Stiles thought to himself. The dumb jokes, the criticism, the disbelief… But who would be the first to start up on him? Kira in her punkish plaid mini-skirt / fishnet stockings outfit, complete with the Doc Martens and black spiked wristbands? Or the well groomed alpha Scott, with his newly purchased Macy’s taupe hoodie and faded blue jeans? And although Lydia had been the one to _out_ them, she had yet to give her opinion on the subject herself.

 

After exchanging a really intense look, Scott and Kira looked back over at Stiles, who now had an arm wrapped possessively around Derek, and started to speak in turns. “We kind of knew,” Scott said sheepishly.

 

“But we thought that it was our imagination,” Kira added.

 

“Because you’re so over the top sometimes,” Scott said by way of explanation.

 

“And Derek is so impossible to read,” Kira continued, finishing Scott’s sentence.

 

“We actually had a little bet going….” Now Scott looked uncomfortable and guilty, as he rightfully should feel.

 

“Which I won.” But Kira didn’t seem to have a problem admitting that she had bet on Stiles hooking up with Derek. She was a straightforward girl with lots of spunk. And she was probably just as socially awkward as Stiles, but in a cuter, more reserved way.

 

“So… nobody has a problem with _us_?” Stiles asked, trying not to let the fear bleed into his voice. Because sharks could taste fear in the water, and Stiles didn’t want to be surrounded by a group of blood-thirsty friends while on vacation. He could practically feel Derek’s nervousness radiating off of the wolf’s body and into the arm that he kept around him. Poor wolf. If Stiles was freaked out of his mind, then Derek must be feeling ten times as uncomfortable.

 

“Why would we have a problem?” Scott asked in that _are you totally stupid?_ tone of his.

 

“I’m okay with it,” Kira said amiably, as if the conversation was already over and it was time to move on.

 

“Well, I think that it’s _adorable_ ,” Lydia gushed with her bright, pouty, orange coral colored lips. “And since you two are now officially gay and proud of it, I’d like to make an announcement.”

 

“Stiles, did she just officially make us proudly gay?” Derek asked moodily by Stiles’ ear. “The adorable part was okay with me, but the second part sounded a bit flippant.”

 

“Nah. Lydia’s just like that. She sometimes says things that offend people, but she means well.” Stiles squeezed Derek tighter and grinned as his wolf blushed. Now _this_ he was okay with. He could now hold hands with Derek, and hug him, and kiss him – in public – without anyone having a major fit. Even Scott had accepted his relationship with Derek, which made Stiles feel so amazingly happy he thought he might burst with joy. “What announcement?” Stiles asked Lydia, curious to know what she had to say.

 

“Like yourselves, I would also like to make my relationship with public. Jordan and I have been dating for, like, the past four months and--.”

 

“Jordan?” Scott cut in, looking confused.

 

“Who is Jordan?” Derek turned to look over his shoulder, trying to find anyone who might look like a Jordan.

 

“Don’t look at me,” Kira said blankly when Scott looked like he wanted her to bring him up to speed on Lydia’s romantic escapades with _Jordan_.

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Lydia nearly yanked Parrish off of his chair when she grabbed his arm and aggressively hauled him closer to her. Then she squeezed him tightly, as if he were one of those giant stuffed animals that one wins at a carnival… and then has no idea how to carry around afterwards. “ _This_ is Jordan. Parrish is his last name. Jordan is his first name. He’s my _boyfriend_.”

 

 _Ohhh_ … Now that was big – somewhat illegal – news. Four months ago Lydia had been seventeen. Stiles wondered if it was kosher for a member of the sheriff’s department to be dating a teenaged high school student. He would hate to be in Jordan’s shoes when the sheriff – Stiles’ sometimes oppressively strict and stubborn father – found out about that little tidbit of information.

 

“Lydia, we haven’t discussed this,” Jordan whispered harshly, but loud enough for everyone to overhear.

 

“This is so great,” Stiles said enthusiastically, feeling bad for Jordan. He never would have blindsided Derek like that. But then again, he was slightly more observant than Lydia when it came to human interaction. Time to spread the goodwill and save Jordan from a million prying questions. “Now can someone pass me the menu? I’m starving and I have a wolf to feed.”


	3. Chapter 3

After having spent the entire day roaming around from one end of the ship to the other, Stiles figured that he would probably be safe for the duration of their trip. If he hadn’t gotten seasick by now, he probably wouldn’t tomorrow, or the day after that. Jordan, on the other hand… _Poor guy._ Stiles had never seen anyone with such a green complexion before. But at least Jordan had been given a free one-week’s supply of Benadryl from the ship’s nurse to get him through the nausea and general discomfort. Nobody had even noticed that poor Jordan was feeling a bit under the weather until his steak had arrived at the table. His eyes had practically crossed at the sight of the rare meat and he’d made a mad dash for the men’s room, not coming out until Scott had gone in after him. Lydia had disappeared with him not long after that, having had no choice but to accompany her date back to their cabin. There would be no partying for Lydia tonight.

 

“I wonder if Jordan is going to make it through this cruise,” Derek mused aloud, continuously flipping through the channels on the TV.

 

They were sitting up in bed with the blankets pulled up around them because it was quite chilly inside their cabin. Stiles had thought that it would be romantic to leave the balcony door open for some fresh air. But the air out on the sea was fresher – and crisper – than he’d expected it to be. Still, the extra chilly air had gotten Stiles his desired reaction from Derek. If his wolf pressed any closer to him, he’d be in his lap, which wasn’t an unwelcome thought at all.

 

“Don’t worry. Lydia will force him to endure. Any man who wants to be with Lydia has to be made of some pretty sturdy manliness,” Stiles said with a smirk. “Derek, can you just pick a channel and put down the remote?”

 

“That’s what I’m trying to do.” What should have been a fairly easy task for most people was incredibly challenging for Derek – the wolf who did not watch TV. Any program that contained violence looked too convincingly real to the wolf. And reality shows Derek just did not get. Cartoons and anime were confusing and the voices too high-pitched, while sci-fi shows went over his head.

 

 _5 –_ Game of Thrones. Pass with mild horror.

 

 _4 –_ World news on CNN. Pass with mild interest.

 

 _3 –_ Marvel’s agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Short pause. Again, pass.

 

 _2 –_ NCIS: Los Angeles. Pass.

 

 _1 –_ Pokemon. Hesitant, bewildered pass.

 

“Okay, that’s it!” Stiles snatched the remote from Derek’s hand, quickly found a blasé cooking program, turned up the volume to level 4, and stuck the remote under his pillow. “No more channel surfing.” He hugged his wolf closer from behind, squishing him enthusiastically, even when Derek suddenly began to struggle against him.

 

“Stiles, your feet are _freezing!_ Stop rubbing them against my feet.”

 

“But your feet are so warm.” Stiles nuzzled Derek’s shoulder, muffling his laughter in the wolf’s fluffy white robe. “Come on, don’t be so stingy. Share the heat.”

 

“We wouldn’t have to share the heat if you would have the common sense to close the door. That gust of wind coming in here is much more violent than the _romantic breeze_ you said it was twenty minutes ago.”

 

Okay, so maybe the wind was a bit strong. All the brochures that had been lying on the dresser had been blown all over the floor, and the tea that they’d smuggled out of the dining room was most likely stone cold by now. Plus Derek’s cheeks and nose were turning that smoky rose color they usually did when the wolf was uncomfortably cold. And Stiles didn’t really want his cute and cuddly wolf to get sick while on the cruise so…

 

Stiles quickly hopped out of bed, rushed over to the balcony door, shut and locked it, and dashed over to his pile of shopping bags on the floor by the bed. They’d browsed around the shops for a bit after dinner, just because it had been too cold to go above deck once the sun had gone down. And while Derek had been entertaining himself in the brand name bag boutique, flipping up price tags and giving himself the shock of a lifetime, Stiles had been secretly buying gifts. He’d gotten his dad a miniature ship inside a glass bottle to use a paperweight down at the sheriff’s department. And a pretty purple silk scarf with ships and seagulls printed on it for Melissa McCall – Stiles’ now and again surrogate _mother_. And, for Derek, he’d gotten something extra special.

 

Once Stiles was back in the bed, he had his arms full of a warm and affectionate wolf who needed to be kissed senseless before he could receive his present. “They just don’t make such big, shiny sea-green eyes like these commercially,” Stiles sighed, kissing Derek’s nose and then just gazing into those perpetually sad eyes up close.

 

Derek laughed shortly, startled again by one of Stiles’ weird compliments. “You want to sell my eyes?”

 

“Not saying they wouldn’t sell, because I’m sure they would, but they’re part of a package deal. See, we also have this fuzzy beard of yours, which is totally necessary to compliment your hypnotic eyes. And your cute nose, and your bushy eyebrows.” As Stiles pointed out all of Derek’s best features, he caressed his hands over the wolf’s face, illustrating every one of his sexy assets.

 

“My eyebrows are not bushy.”

 

“Bushy-like then.” Stiles snuggled with Derek under the blankets, casually pushing something wrapped in paper between them. “I got you a present.”

 

“But it isn’t my birthday.” Derek looked confused for a moment, grabbing hold of the paper package from underneath the blankets, and pulling it up so that he could look at it. It was wrapped very formally, like one would expect from a classy cruise ship’s boutique. All stuffy brown hued paper with a nautical pattern going up and down it, and finished off with a champagne ribbon that was just a tad lighter than the paper. Because monotony equaled exquisite taste, or so Stiles had been led to believe.

 

“Consider it an early anniversary present.” Stiles was pleased when he didn’t have to explain what he meant by that to Derek. His wolf bashfully blushed and began to rip open the fancy wrapping paper. There were a only few more days to go until their 6th month anniversary. It was still hard to believe that they’d been together for nearly half a year! For Stiles that was like half a lifetime. How many dates had they had together during that time? How many lacrosse games had Derek come out to cheer him on for? And how many times had they found themselves wrapped up in each other’s arms on a park bench somewhere after a romantic date? There should have been too many to count, but Stiles was a very dedicated boyfriend. He had marked down each and every last date on his cell phone calendar, attaching details of where they had gone and what they had done for each one.

 

When Derek pulled a grayish lump of fur out of the torn wrapping paper and turned it over in his hands a few times, Stiles nearly busted his ribs he was laughing so hard. “What is it?” Derek asked earnestly, looking as if he were trying to figure out which way was up.

 

“Oh my gosh, you’re so cute and clueless,” Stiles laughed hoarsely. He took the lump of fur from Derek, turned it right side up, brushed the fur backwards, and shook it so that a big bushy tail sprang loose from the end of it. Then he handed it back.

 

Derek held it close to his face and stared at it for several seconds, his eyes wide with amazement, even as his lips began to curl up into a happy grin. “It’s a toy wolf,” he declared, now being able to see the eyes and muzzle with the fur out of the way. But just as quickly as the grin had appeared, Derek just as quickly stamped it out. He looked at Stiles with his usual serious, dour expression and held out the wolf in question. “Why did you get me a stuffed animal, Stiles?”

 

“Because it was so adorable! It reminded me of you. Look at how big the eyes are. And all that fur around its face could easily be a beard.”

 

“But men don’t usually keep stuffed animals,” Derek said gruffly.

 

“Oh, so you don’t want it? That’s a shame.” Stiles took the wolf back and reached over the side of the bed for the shopping bag it had come in. “I’d already gone and named it, too. I called it Bambi-wolf, after you. Aww, poor Bambi-wolf,” he cooed to the stuffed wolf. “Derek doesn’t like you. We’re just going to have to return you in the morning. If you’re lucky, you might become a pillow for some lonely old lady. Or, if you’re unlucky, some over-privileged kid might decide to play football with you.”

 

“You’re going to return him? You can’t take away a present after you’ve given it to someone, Stiles,” Derek said moodily, grabbing for the wolf. “Give me Bambi-wolf back!” He hugged the wolf in his arms, keeping Stiles’ groping hands away from his new stuffed wolf.

 

“So, you don’t want me to give away your Bambi-wolf?” Stiles said with an impossible to hide smirk.

 

“No.”

 

“So, you like him, then?”

 

“I’m not answering you, Stiles.”

 

Stiles watched Bambi-wolf disappear underneath the blankets, as if Derek were actually afraid that Stiles might take back the gift and return it to the store. Reverse psychology was such an awesome way of making people do exactly what you wanted them to. And Derek hugging a cute stuffed animal version of a wolf while he slept was well worth the shaming giggles Stiles had endured while getting the gift wrapped at the cash register. There would probably be a rumor going around tomorrow amongst the Maple Ridge High graduates about how Stiles hadn’t outgrown his childish impulses. Oh well, it was a small price to pay for his wolf’s happiness.

 

“Now I have two wolves to snuggle with while I sleep.” Stiles eagerly latched onto his warm, nicely toned wolf, while playfully trying to snatch back the furry Bambi-wolf in Derek’s arms.

 

“No, you only have one,” Derek corrected him, ducking his head down to lightly bite Stiles’ wrist when he got too close to the Bambi-wolf. “This one is _mine_.”

 

Stiles laughed gleefully and squeezed Derek even tighter. “You’re going to make me die of happiness, do you know that?” He shook off the mild bite and pulled Derek back into the pillows with him. “How do you feel about an early morning swim in the heated pool above deck? We didn’t get a chance to test it out today, even though it was on my list of things that we absolutely have to do.”

 

“Only with you. No Scott. No Lydia. And no Kira. And no seasick Jordan.”

 

Definitely no seasick Jordan! Nobody wanted that landlubber anywhere near the swimming pool, or the breakfast table. “Absolutely! We won’t have to see them again until tomorrow night, so it’s just you and me. And the Carnival Nora Ookami.”

 

* * *

 

Neither Stiles nor Derek slept for very long because they were too wired and restless, super excited to start Day 2 of their romantic cruise. And the time that they had spent in bed had been used more for snuggling, kissing, and fighting over Bambi-wolf than actually sleeping. Breakfast wouldn’t be served until 7am, so they had a whole hour to enjoy the heated pool. Alone.

 

When they got to the pool, wrapped up in their fluffy white robes and shivering from the frigid morning sea air, there wasn’t another human in sight. Well, except for the poor lifeguard who looked like he had yet to rejoin the land of the living. He was hunched over in his designated red chair, overlooking the swimming pool, and looking like he might flop face first into it if he kept yawning like that.

 

“Now there’s a man who needs a caffeine injection,” Stiles joked with chattering teeth as he poked a toe into the water near the corner of the swimming pool. “Ooo, it’s warm.”

 

“Then, what are you waiting for?” Derek flung his robe onto the nearest chaise lounge and jumped into the pool in his black swimming trunks. The deep end of the pool.

 

“Crap!” Stiles quickly dropped his robe onto the deck and dove in after Derek. _Foolish wolf! Poor, cold, shivery moronic wolf!_ He silently chided Derek in his mind as he caught hold of his flailing wolf’s chest and pulled him in close, holding him until the struggling stopped. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You can quit kicking me now,” Stiles said soothingly, trying to help Derek get over his traumatic entrance into the pool. Derek couldn’t actually swim, as Stiles had learned a while back, so seeing his wolf go charging into the deep end had given Stiles a terribly shocking start to the day.

 

“Hey, is he okay? Do you need me to… like… get him out?” The lifeguard called out noncommittally to Stiles from the other end of the pool. From where he continued to slouch in his position high up in that red chair his ass was permanently attached to.

 

“No, we’re good,” Stiles called back, knowing that if anyone else tried to rescue Derek, they’d end up with claw and bite marks all over their bodies. “Right, Derek?”

 

Derek coughed a few more times before clearing his throat and trying to appear unfazed by what had just happened. Mainly his brief sinking act into the warm – yet dangerously lethal – water of the massive swimming pool above deck. “I’m good,” he said calmly, but the nervous hands that he used to grab onto Stiles’ arm said otherwise.

 

“Just go limp and relax,” Stiles instructed calmly. “I’ll pull you into the shallow end.” It really was true what they said about opposites being attracted to each other. Of the many things that Stiles didn’t have in common with Derek, swimming was at the top of the list. Stiles was a fantastic swimmer, with the strength to get both himself and his wolf to the safety of the shallow end on the other end of the pool. But Derek couldn’t even do the doggy paddle, which was sad, but wickedly romantic if Stiles got to play the hero rescuing him. “Why Derek, what a nice sexy body you have,” Stiles breathed out as he kicked his legs and swam with only one arm for maneuvering, getting them quickly into a section of water that was merely waist deep.

 

“Stiles, I suck at swimming,” Derek complained, sitting down in the shallow water so that it came up to his neck, hiding himself from the intense observation of the lifeguard. “And that guy won’t stop staring at me.”

 

“That’s putting it mildly. And the lifeguard isn’t staring at you. His eyes aren’t even open.” Someone needed a double boost of caffeine, or a new career in life. Stiles floated on his back beside Derek and regarded his wolf with a mixture of compassion and amusement. “Poor sexy wolf can’t swim. Do you want me to teach you?”

 

“By holding me under until I have to fight for air? No thanks,” Derek said miserably.

 

“Huh? Is that why you can’t swim? Did someone do that to you when you were a kid?” Now there was a horrible introduction to swimming if Stiles had ever heard of one. And the fact that Derek wasn’t even bothering to deny it… “Who did such a cruel thing to my poor wolf?”

 

“You kicked him out of my loft a few months ago,” Derek replied vaguely.

 

“ _That_ asshole? Peter?” Shit, if Stiles had heard this story before he’d tossed Peter to the curb, he would have beaten him with a very long stick first. “I guess that was supposed to be his idea of tough love, or some twisted Peter-obsessive crap like that. When we get back to shore, the first thing I’m going to do is turn his old Viagra hide into a floor mat for my jeep.”

 

“If you put any part of Peter into your jeep, I swear I will never set foot in it again,” Derek vowed.

 

“I’ll put it in the locker room at school then. The soccer team can wipe their cleats off on whatever is left of Peter after I’m done with him.” When Derek’s eyes lit up with mirth, Stiles grinned. “You like the idea of that, huh?” Stiles swiped a hand playfully through Derek’s hair and then tugged on his left arm. “Come on, I’m going to teach you how to swim.”

 

“Stiles…,” Derek protested, resisting the pull on his arm until Stiles leaned in to kiss him.

 

“Come on, you big fraidy wolf. I promise that we’ll stay in the shallow end and I won’t let you swallow any water. All you have to do is lie on your back and close your eyes. You’ll have fun. Trust me.”

 

“I trust you… I just don’t trust the water.”

 

“You only need to trust me, not the water. Now lean back. No, don’t look at me. Close your eyes.”

 

“Why do I have to close my eyes? Is that going to make me learn how to swim faster?”

 

“Huh? Don’t be silly,” Stiles gently teased Derek. “It’s only because if you look at me with those cute dewy sea-green eyes of yours, I’m going to get distracted and drop you. And you don’t want that, do you?” After Derek had quickly shut his eyes for fear of being dropped into the water, Stiles got both hands firmly under Derek’s armpits and pulled him slowly backwards. “See, if you relax, you float,” he announced as if the concept were rocket science. He towed Derek back and forth through the water, beginning to feel his wolf relax and enjoy the sensation of being light and buoyant. “I’m going to let you go now.”

 

“No, Stiles, don’t!” Derek almost panicked, but calmed down again when Stiles didn’t actually let him go.

 

“I’ll still be here to save you if you slip into the water,” Stiles promised. “The only skill that you need to float is to stay absolutely still and loose, like a feather.”

 

“Feathers don’t have muscles.”

 

“But muscles can still float,” Stiles insisted. While Derek had been talking, Stiles had subtly removed his hands. He looked down to watch Derek float by him, admiring his handiwork and trying desperately not to make any noises when his wolf threatened him again.

 

“You promised not to let go of me,” Derek said in a pretty much relaxed tone, obviously not realizing that Stiles was no longer behind him – or holding onto him. “So don’t let go of me.”

 

“Actually, I promised not to let you swallow water. That’s a bit different,” Stiles replied casually as he followed Derek to the opposite side of the pool, all the while thinking, _my wolf is floating!_ And, _I am amazing!_


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey, Derek, did you know that there was a treasure hunt taking place on the ship?” Stiles asked distractedly as he walked past a colorful poster announcing a prize of $10,000 for the first group to locate all the hidden treasure. “Do you know what we could do with $10,000?”

 

“Buy me a new heater?” Derek asked hopefully. It was difficult to hide the fact that he was beaming with joy because Stiles was holding his hand with their fingers linked together. They were taking a casual stroll above deck, hand in hand, and Stiles was acting like it was completely natural for them to be flaunting their relationship to everyone on board. And whenever they encountered one of Stiles’ classmates, or teachers, Stiles was introducing Derek as his _boyfriend_ , which was surely going to be the subject of many a dinner conversation tonight.

 

“I can buy you ten heaters with $10,000,” Stiles bragged confidently, as if there was no doubt in his mind that he would win the treasure hunt… if he had actually signed up for it in the first place. “Or we could go to Tahiti…”

 

“Where?” Wasn’t that the name of one of the cocktails that had been on the lunch menu?

 

“You suck at geography, you know that?”

 

“And you almost failed English literature, so I think that you’re in no position to judge,” Derek reminded him.

 

“Guilty as charged.”

 

But Stiles was now sounding very distant, and Derek had a pretty good idea why. That was the way Stiles always got when he was plotting something. First his amber-brown eyes would get that faraway look in them, right before his lips parted into an “O” shape that meant somebody was going to be unhappy by the end of the day. Stiles’ plots usually ended up with someone upset, pranked, or temporarily robbed. And Stiles was never without a plot. He came up with more schemes than Lydia went through lipstick shades. “Stiles?”

 

“Yes, Bambi-wolf?”

 

Cringing as soon as that sometimes cute – sometimes irritating – nickname left Stiles’ lips, Derek squeezed Stiles’ hand extra hard and yanked him close. “You promised to _never_ say that outside our cabin,” he growled close to Stiles’ ear. “If anyone hears you calling me that, I’m going to--.”

 

“Kira! Scott! Hey!” Stiles called out in greeting to the couple that was quickly approaching them from the other end of the port side.

 

“Are you having a lover’s quarrel?” Kira asked boldly when they were within hearing distance. “That’s so cute.”

 

“ _No_. We were not having a _lover’s quarrel,_ ” Derek replied moodily as he pulled away from Stiles in embarrassment and crossed both arms over his chest to contradict his denial.

 

“Are you going down to the game room, too?” Stiles asked Scott, purposely ignoring Derek’s sulking.

 

“No. We just signed up for the treasure hunt and--.”

 

“ _Scott!”_ Kira interrupted quickly. “Stiles, as much as we love our friends, we can’t be giving away any of the clues for the treasure hunt. It’s every couple for themselves.”

 

“Meh,” Stiles made a bored sound as he shrugged, showing that he couldn’t care less about the treasure hunt. “You two run along then and scavenge away. Let me know when you’ve won the $10,000.” Taking the suggestion very literally, Kira and Scott took off to do just that.

 

With both eyebrows raised in disbelief, Derek looked at Stiles as if he were crazy. If anyone was smart enough to solve all the clues for any kind of hunt, it was definitely Stiles. Why would Stiles allow Kira and Scott to walk away with $10,000? “Are you feeling seasick?” Derek asked to make sure.

 

“I hope you’ve got enough caffeine in you because we’re going on a treasure hunt!” Stiles blurted out excitedly.   Before Derek could defend himself, Stiles was hugging him as if he were a giant teddy bear and then cuddling him with insane enthusiasm. “I’m going to buy you so many presents with that money,” he promised as he began to rub their cheeks together. “A new heater. A new bed. Furry blankets all in shades of wolf grey. And boxes and boxes of all your favorite imported teas. Oh, and tickets to the theater, with backstage passes to meet all your favorite performers!”

 

Feeling all warm and smothered with love, Derek didn’t have the heart to tell Stiles that he had zero interest in theater shows and didn’t have a favorite actor, never mind a favorite performer. “So, we’re going to enter the treasure hunt after all?”

 

“Yes, we are! But don’t tell anyone because they might try harder if they know that I’m participating.”

 

Derek rolled his eyes at that. Although Stiles was really smart, he sometimes had the bad habit of letting his ego announce that fact to the world. They couldn’t have that if they were really going to be serious about this seemingly easy game. “What if Lydia and Jordan have already signed up?”

 

“Shit! Do you think they would do that?” Now Stiles actually sounded worried. If there was anyone else on board who had the brains to outsmart Stiles, it was Lydia. That girl had an IQ that needed some serious measuring. “Well, even if they do, Lydia is going to be on her own. I wouldn’t expect Mr. Nausea to be of much help to her on this. You, on the other hand, are going to help me win this.” Stiles was already heading in the direction of the signup desk below deck, dragging Derek along behind him.

 

Derek hurried to keep up, tripping once or twice on the sailor blue carpeting when Stiles tugged on his arm a little too eagerly. “But I hate riddles and games,” he protested halfheartedly. He didn’t want to ruin Stiles’ fun, or give up on winning a large sum of cash, but he really did detest any and all games because he was no good at them. He’d been on a scavenger hunt once, back in his senior year in high school. There had been a list of thirty clues divided up between each group of five students. So he’d been responsible for finding the location of six items on his section of the list. Not only had he not been able to find even one, but he’d also ended up getting arrested for trespassing down at the local gas company’s headquarters. While everyone else had had the common sense to look for _the flame that unites_ down at the chapel, Derek had interpreted that flame as a reference to a gas fire bringing a family closer together during the middle of the winter. How was he supposed to know that the clue had been a metaphor for love and marriage?

 

“That’s Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale,” Stiles repeated as he finished signing up for the treasure hunt and grabbed for the list of ten clues printed on a single white sheet of paper. “This is it? Only ten?”

 

“Don’t get too overconfident about it,” the lady at the signup table warned. “They’re not easy.”

 

“Thanks for the motivating tip,” Stiles said sarcastically as he led Derek back down the corridor. “ _Don’t put the cart before the horse, unless you are putting things in their proper order.”_

 

Just listening to that first clue made Derek feel all screwed up inside. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

 

But Stiles wouldn’t answer because he was too busy rubbing his hands together gleefully. “This is _so_ easy!”

 

“Is it?” Trying not to feel stupid, Derek thought about it again, and felt like pulling out his hair for making the effort. “I don’t get it.”

 

“Come on, Bambi-wolf,” Stiles urged, rushing down the corridor with Derek in tow. “We have our first item to collect!”

 

* * *

 

 

Less than fifty minutes later, Stiles flopped down onto the patio lounger on the upper deck, pulling Derek down onto his lap. The thick cushions of the reclining lounge chair made his resting spot extra comfy, while the warm squirming wolf on his lap kept his bare legs insulated from the evening wind. He probably shouldn’t have chosen to wear shorts outside, but he had wanted to take some typical cruise pictures with Derek today, just in case the weather tomorrow turned out grey and damning for a photo shoot. And nothing made a bunch of cruise pictures look more cheerful and cliché than a pair of aqua board shorts with a loud Hawaiian shirt. Derek had dressed sensibly in a long sleeved shirt and slacks that were a tiny shift away from black in the color spectrum. At least that’s what Derek would have most people believe, but Stiles still thought they both looked black.

 

“Stiles, there’s another chair beside this one,” Derek pointed out as he tried to dislodge Stiles’ arm, which was locked around his waist tighter than one of those safety restraining bars on the roller-coasters at Disney World.

 

“Do me a favor and kick it away so that no one can sit beside us,” Stiles said dreamily as he hugged Derek closer. Yes, he knew that his bashful wolf was trying to escape to the other chair, but Stiles was not going to let him go. Not when he was so relaxed and in the zone. Although it was probably several degrees too cold to be referred to as _chilly_ , the scent of the outdoor sea air was calm and refreshing. And the darkening sky was just beginning to show a few hints of twinkling stars, giving them something to gaze up at. When Derek actually stretched out his leg and gave the neighboring lounger a good shove with his foot, Stiles started to laugh. “You didn’t have to make it so obvious.”

 

“Mission accomplished,” Derek said triumphantly as he snuggled up closer to Stiles.

 

Well, now that their evening was just about settled, it was probably time to have _that talk_. The one that Stiles had nervously been putting off for the past few weeks. But now there was really no excuse because neither of them were hungry, or feeling energetic enough for the games. They’d been losing energy steadily since their morning swim, which had kept them in the water for far longer than Stiles had anticipated. After Derek’s startling discovery that he could float in the water unaided, he hadn’t wanted to come out. It had taken a lot of coaxing to get Derek to give up the warm water of the pool in order to get down to the restaurant for their continental breakfast. They’d walked around after both the breakfast and the lunch, because they were too full to do anything else. And then they’d practically sprinted from one end of the ship to the other to solve three of the riddles on the treasure hunt list. Now _that_ had been a bit too much exercise!

 

The first riddle had been so easy that Stiles wondered how anyone could have failed to figure it out. He had immediately targeted the library and gone straight for the section that held the dictionaries. Because the clue had been _Don’t put the cart before the horse, unless you are putting things in their proper order._ The only time the cart came before the horse was in the dictionary, when they were being filed in alphabetical order. And right behind the row of dictionaries on the wide, expansive shelf, Stiles had found a cluster of plastic carts attached to horses. He had swiped a handful of them before Derek had cleared his throat and told him off.

 

“ _Doesn’t rule number one tell you not to tamper with the additional treasure pieces?”_ Derek had asked, although he hadn’t really been phrasing it as a question.

 

Okay, so sometimes Stiles liked to cheat. It made him feel more confident about winning. But Derek was so wholesome and honest that Stiles had felt like a puddle of muddy, impure water with all those treasure pieces in his hand. So he’d put them back and grumbled on about how he’d just been joking and hadn’t really had any intention of ruining someone else’s fun – or shot at that $10,000. It was probably a good thing to have someone decent like Derek at his side to keep his slightly immoral side in check.

 

After the library, they’d rushed back to the swimming pool so that Stiles could dive into the deep end to retrieve a cheap pewter miniature of Poseidon. Then he’d sent Derek into the gym to find a gold plastic button by one of the treadmills after solving the riddle, _What path moves with you, but halts when you get off?_

So, three down, seven to go. And they still had three days left to get all the pieces, unless someone beat them to it. But one of the riddles was clearly pointing to the nightclub, and the whole place was closed for repairs until the last day of the cruise, so Stiles figured that he had plenty of time to find the rest of the treasure pieces before then.

 

“Say, Derek… I’ve never really asked you what you do for a living.” Stiles tried to bring up the subject as casually as possible, because he didn’t know if Derek was sensitive about being unemployed, or if he was involved in illegal activity. Although he was one-hundred percent sure that Derek was not a drug dealer or a mafia boss, there were still millions of other sketchy businesses that his wolf could be involved in. Like a telemarketing scam, or insurance fraud… or perhaps high stakes gambling. Stiles just had absolutely no idea what Derek did for a living and had always been too afraid to ask, in case he got an answer that he wasn’t ready to hear.

 

“No, you haven’t,” Derek replied, sounding amused.

 

“So… are you going to tell me?”

 

“I invest in stocks and bonds and do currency trading on the side to earn enough income to live comfortably on,” Derek explained without even a hint of deception.

 

“Seriously?” Stiles’ eyes nearly bugged out at hearing that. His wolf was smart enough to do business on Wall Street? How fucking awesome was that?!

 

But Derek merely shrugged, as if he didn’t think much of his highly coveted skills. “I just like keeping track of how international and multinational corporations are doing, as well as public utilities. I do a bit of research, plot their rate of growth, and then determine which ones are worth holding onto, and which ones have to go. The currency trading is easy if you keep yourself current on world events and individual economies.”

 

“I’m trying to picture you in a suit… and failing,” Stiles joked. “You are one super smart wolf.” To show Derek just how special he thought those skills were, Stiles hugged him even tighter and kissed his fuzzy cheek. “So, you don’t have to stay in the one place to continue with your Bruce Wayne antics?”

 

“Who is Bruce Wayne?”

 

Sometimes Stiles forgot that Derek had grown up in a secluded house in the middle of the woods, with very little access to a TV set, and with no toys or comic books. _Poor underprivileged wolf,_ he thought to himself. “Never mind. See, here’s the thing… I’ve decided to go to the John Jay College of Criminal Justice in New York to get a solid foundation in policing before I join the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department as a deputy. And you know how far New York is from here. So my dad is helping me rent an apartment near the college – a very _spacious_ loft apartment. Big enough for a wolf to get lost in,” he suggested hopefully.

 

Suddenly those big sea-green eyes were staring at Stiles with innocent wonder. “You want me to move to New York with you?”

 

“I believe that’s what I just indirectly asked,” Stiles confirmed in a roundabout way.

 

“We’re going to have our own apartment?” Now there was no mistaking the excitement in Derek’s voice or the eager way a set of untrimmed wolf claws were tearing streaks down one side of the patio lounger. “And eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner together?!”

 

“Sure! And dessert too,” Stiles added as he smiled at his lovable wolf. “So, does that mean you’ll come with me to New York?”

 

“I _love_ New York,” Derek exclaimed as he snuggled up against Stiles. Which didn’t make any sense because Derek had never been to New York. “I _love_ you, Stiles.”

 

Stiles grinned warmly at his wolf, before returning the sentiment. “I love you, Derek. More than all the stars in the sky and all the gold in the world.”

 

“That sounds ridiculous,” Derek laughed happily as Stiles began to kiss him.

 

“It does, but you love it all the same.”     


End file.
